


The Demon I Cling To

by lynnwrites



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Breathplay, Come Eating, Daddy Kink, Deepthroating, Dom/sub Undertones, Edgeplay, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Fucking, Fucking Machines, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, Light Angst, M/M, Nipple Play, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Subspace, outdated pop culture references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-27 03:23:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9950150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lynnwrites/pseuds/lynnwrites
Summary: Goosebumps form across his whole body, and Rhys gnaws on his bottom lip. His blindfold prevents him from seeing the expression on his partner’s face, but he’s sure it’s close to expectant.“You can answer me. What was our agreement?”Rhys clears his throat before replying, “Silence means I get to come tonight.”“And noise?”“Noise means,” Rhys swallows, “discipline.”





	1. Chapter 1

“J-Ja-” Rhys huffs out before he even realizes, then immediately bites his lip. It’s no use of course. He noticed. 

“Oh, baby. And you were doing so well.” 

A touch against his cheek, as light as a feather, but Rhys knows what comes next, craves it, really. Suddenly, and Rhys would grin if he didn’t want to be punished even more, a firm hand grabs his jaw and pulls his face forward. A husky voice in his ear, “What was our deal, sweetheart?”

Goosebumps form across his whole body, and Rhys gnaws on his bottom lip. His blindfold prevents him from seeing the expression on his partner’s face, but he’s sure it’s close to expectant.

“You can answer me. What was our agreement?”

Rhys clears his throat before replying, “Silence means I get to come tonight.”

“And noise?”

“Noise means,” Rhys swallows, “discipline.”

 

\---

 

You know how people begin a story with saying  _ ‘It was all very innocent at first’?  _ Yeah, that isn’t the case here. 

From the moment Rhys stepped foot into Hyperion headquarters and met his new boss (technically his boss’ boss), he was smitten. Of course, he realized quickly that practically everybody at Hyperion worshipped him as a hero. Handsome Jack, they called him. They were right, obviously, but at the same time, it didn’t sit right with Rhys, calling him that. People idolized the vision they had of Jack, the vision he allowed them to see. Rhys wanted more than that. Rhys wanted to get close to him, to be let in, and then, if possible, to let Jack in.

All in all, it was pretty easy, much easier than Rhys had expected. Hyperion had company parties, sometimes, and even low-level personnel like Rhys were invited. He started the evening of one of these parties with his co-workers/friends, Vaughn and Yvette. They all worked in different departments, but they were quick to introduce themselves to Rhys on his first day, and they had several conversations in the break room every day. 

He’s sipping champagne and looking across the room when he spots him. Handsome Jack.  _ Jack _ . And when Rhys doesn’t move his gaze for a while, the president of the Hyperion Corporation decides to look back at him, a single eyebrow raised. 

Rhys gulps loudly, loud enough for Vaughn and Yvette to notice and follow his gaze. Of course, Jack has already looked away again then.

“Oh, the big chief is here,” Vaughn comments. “That’s pretty rare, I think. He usually locks himself away in his giant office.”

Rhys is surprised, this is the first negative feedback he’s heard about his boss since he started. At Rhys’ questioning look, Vaughn continues, “Well, you haven’t been here long enough to notice, I guess. But he’s kind of...cranky?”

“He’s a dick, you mean,” Yvette says, being very direct about it. “He treats people like dirt.”

_ I like being treated like dirt _ , Rhys thinks. He hmms, and empties his glass in one gulp. When he sets his glass down on a table nearby, he notices Jack’s eyes on him again. Deciding to just go for it, he tells Vaughn and Yvette he’s going to the restroom, and instead makes his way over to Jack. 

Instead of introducing himself, he waits while Jack considers him, trailing his eyes over his body and landing on his face again.

“My name’s Rhys.”

Jack smirks, lifts just the corner of his mouth before he says, “Okay.”

Rhys can’t even explain why his heart is pounding so hard in his chest, but this moment seems important, pivotal.

“Follow me.”

Jack leads him to an elevator, and opens it with his keycard. Private, Rhys realizes, and as soon as they step inside and the doors close, Jack cages him in against the wall. He seeks permission without words, and when Rhys doesn’t object, he leans in to kiss him harshly. He bites at Rhys’ bottom lip before he licks inside, taking a clear lead. When Rhys dares to touch Jack back, to caress Jack’s face, his hand gets pushed way. “No,” Jack orders him with heavy breath.

“Okay,” Rhys whispers before guiding Jack back to his lips. The elevator ride to the top seems to go on forever, and Rhys has no complaints, but when the doors open and he has his first glimpse at Jack’s office, all the air leaves his body. “Oh my god.”

The entire top floor of the building is part of Jack’s office, if you can even still call it that. It’s at least three times the size of Rhys’ apartment. It’s sparsely furnished, with one giant desk on a dais, and a seating area in one corner. While Rhys is still gawking, Jack walks over to his desk and leans against it.

“Come here, pumpkin.” 

At the sound of his gruff voice, Rhys gets tingles all over and is quick to obey. When he steps in front of Jack, the next order comes. “Floor, on your knees.”

Even better, Rhys thinks. The ideal place to worship him.

“Are you waiting for a start signal? Get to it.”

Rhys didn’t even realize he was waiting for permission, but when clearly granted, he gets to work. His hands first make their way up Jack’s legs, eagerly touching and massaging along the way. He can’t believe he’s allowed to do this. When Jack’s pants are open and dragged down to his knees, Rhys’ mouth waters. Jack is wearing black boxer briefs, and the shape of his hard cock is clear. Unable to stop himself, Rhys leans in and kisses the outline, tries to wrap his mouth around it. His tongue makes the fabric wet, and when he sucks just a little, he tastes the bitterness of Jack’s precome. It makes his mouth water even more. As he pulls the underwear down, he hears a small hiss above him, and he sees Jack leaning back on his desk, head dropped back.

It almost distracts him from the beautiful cock that sprung free, and Rhys leans in to trail his nose against it. It leaks a little across his forehead, but Rhys doesn’t mind, loves it.

He doesn’t bother being gentle, just goes for it and swallows him down. He doesn’t stop until he can feel the head of Jack’s cock against the back of his throat, his lips stretching around the shaft. He feels tears starting to form under his eyelids from the lack of air, and only then does he move again. He’s bobbing his head up and down while he regains his breath, and every now and then he chokes himself on Jack’s cock, enjoying the black haze that forms around him. He makes sure to groan occasionally, knowing what the vibrations must feel like. 

His hands explore the rest of Jack’s body, as much as he can reach from that position. His fingers trail along the soft skin of his belly, and Rhys hums in surprise. When some of the black haze clears, he can focus on his surroundings again, finally hears the moans Jack has been producing. He can feel Jack’s stomach clenching, he must be close. He’s proven right when Jack pushes him back, just slightly. His right hand lands on his own dick, while he strokes himself, and his left hand moves towards Rhys’ throat.

His eyes widen, and when Jack’s hand tightens just a little, Rhys moans. It doesn’t take long before Jack finishes with a groan, drops of come landing across Rhys’ face.

His breath hitches when Jack pulls him up, hand still across his throat. He gets turned around then, facing the room at large. Only when Jack moves his hand and squeezes Rhys’ cock through his dress pants does Rhys suddenly remember his own straining erection. He’s trained himself to get better stamina, to be able to withstand a lot before coming, and right now, he even forgot his cock existed, so focussed on bringing Jack pleasure.

Jack is plastered against his back, his left hand squeezing gently to hear Rhys’ soft moans, right hand deftly opening his pants. His boxers have an uncomfortable wet patch in the front, but Jack doesn’t wait long to pull them down and start stroking his cock. His touch makes Rhys shiver.

“Come on, baby,” a warm voice breathes in his ear. “You can come now.”

And Rhys does. Right into Jack’s waiting palm. He slumps back, trembling on his legs. When the hand leaves his throat, he whines, but then Jack’s other hand is waiting expectantly in front of his face.

When Rhys hesitates, Jack laughs softly behind him. “What, you thought I would let you come all over my floor? I don’t think so, buddy. Come on, clean my hand and I’ll even clean your face for you, too.”

Rhys turns his head to stare straight into Jack’s eyes and grabs his wrist to lead his fingers to his mouth, licking each finger clean while maintaining eye contact. When he finishes with a long broad lick across his palm, Jack smirks at him.

“I like you, kid.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *points at tags*

There were bruises. They were small, and not fully purple like the way your toe looks when you walk into a table, but they were obviously bruises. While the one behind Rhys’ ear was easily hidden by both his hair falling over it and the spot not really being a place people would look, the neat little row of four dark dots along the right side of his throat were definitely visible. Rhys felt a strange exhilaration when he touched them, the marks as terrifying as they were exciting. Watching himself in the mirror, he pressed on one and couldn’t hold back a quiet moan. Jesus, what kind of state was he in? Just looking at the bruises was getting him worked up again, and he couldn’t help remembering Jack’s hands on him, remembering his own mouth on Jack.

The man was so much more than Rhys had expected, while at the same time, he couldn’t really explain why. Being near Jack, being  _ alone  _ with Jack made him feel special all on its own. That feeling, the powerful surge of it that Jack could deliver just by being there made Rhys think he never wanted to be without it ever again.

 

\---

 

It’s a few days later when he gets called into Jack’s office. The bruises have faded a lot, or at least enough for Rhys to stop wearing scarfs in the middle of April. Either his co-workers were doing him a favor by not mentioning it, or they were very,  _ very  _ stupid.

The minute he enters the office and sits down on one of the chairs in front of the desk, Jack’s eyes hone in on his neck. The blush is instant, and Rhys clears his throat. “What can I do for you...” He suddenly doesn’t know how to end that sentence. Does he call him Jack? That seems entirely too forward, but then again, he did have the man’s cock in his mouth just a couple days ago.

Jack looks at him expectantly, and Rhys awkwardly realizes he wants  _ Rhys  _ to decide how they continue from here.

“...sir?”

Jack looks extremely pleased by that, and the sexual connotation isn’t lost on Rhys. 

“Rhys, was it?”

His cheeks heat up with embarrassment. “Uh…, yes.”

“Would you say you enjoyed what happened on Saturday?”

Oh, so they’re talking about it. Is that good? Did Rhys not want to talk about it? His mind is so blank, he can’t remember how he feels about it. Jack’s hair looks nice today. Wait, what was the question? Right, Saturday. His fingers travel to his own throat, and he realizes he’s been staring off into the distance for at least a minute.

“I take it that’s a yes?” Jack asks, cocky smirk in place.

“Yes, very much so.” Why does Rhys feel out of breath? 

“Would you like to do it again?”

“What, right now?” Rhys asks incredulously. His boss would certainly notice if he wasn’t back soon, and Henderson knew he was in Jack’s office. Also, anybody could enter the room at any moment. That didn’t stop his pants from feeling alarmingly tight, though.

“Cool it, kid. Not right now,” Jack laughs. “But…” 

He stands and walks over to Rhys, who feels plastered to the chair. “You would, wouldn’t you? You’d drop to your knees right this second if I asked. Isn’t that right?”

Rhys is biting his bottom lip furiously to stop any noise from coming out of his mouth. In the end he just nods. Jack leans over him, hands landing on the armrests, his breath ghosting over Rhys’ face.

Rhys can’t look away.

He doesn’t even notice Jack’s hand moving until it lands on his throat, not pushing, but caressing it gently, and somehow that’s even hotter.

“Oh, cupcake,” he grins. “We’re gonna have so much fun together.”

Rhys’ pants are getting uncomfortable, and when he tries to subtly adjust himself by moving his hips, Jack looks down and smirks.

“So much fun,” he promises. 

When Jack suddenly walks away and sits down behind his desk again, Rhys whines loudly before he can stop it. His poor dick is going through a lot of torment, and it wasn’t even touched once.

Jack scribbles something on a business card and throws it over to him. “That’s my address, and my phone number. If I get any prank calls, I will personally murder you, got it?”

Jack’s number. Jack’s address. They feel like prizes, like Rhys has done something good, passed some sort of test. He’s weirdly grateful, but try to explain  _ that  _ without seeming like an absolute idiot.

Jack looks at him like he expects an answer to something. It takes Rhys a minute. (The blood in his body hasn’t travelled back to his head yet, okay?)

“Of course, got it. But uh…” Rhys says. “What do I do with these?”

“Come to my place, tonight. If you want-”

“I want.”

Jack grins. “If you want,” he pauses for emphasis, “we could make this a recurring thing. Not at the office, ‘cause believe it or not, I actually do have some respect for my own company and I  _ work  _ during office hours. But we could have some fun afterwards. Yes?”

God, it’s like Rhys has never had a normal conversation in his entire life. Where the fuck has his vocabulary gone? All he can seem to do around Jack is nod and hope Jack still thinks he’s worth it.

“Good,” Jack nods too. “So when you get there, tell the doorman I invited you, he’ll let you in. Call me if there’s any trouble. I don’t text.”

“Sure.” It’s a miracle! He speaks!

He stares at Jack typing at his computer for an awkwardly long time before Jack looks up again.

“You can go now.”

“Oh, right.”

As Rhys makes his way down in the elevator, he sees his reflection in the mirror. His entire face is red, and he isn’t entirely sure if he said more than 5 words in there. Jesus, he needs to find his fucking cool. It’s like he’s a teenager again, except teenage Rhys did  _ not  _ get any dick and had even less game than he does now.

It’s just another effect Jack has on him, turning him speechless, and Rhys isn’t sure if he likes that. He knows it’s because of the pedestal Jack is on, and he knows he put the man there himself, but if he can’t  _ talk  _ to Jack, things could get dangerous. He needs to get his bravado back.

 

\---

 

If Rhys didn’t know any better, he’d think the doorman at Jack’s apartment building was a robot. He  _ does  _ know better however, because Hyperion hasn’t developed that kind of technology yet. (They’re very close.)

When he stands in front of Jack’s place, he tries to remember everything he needed to say. The mental pep talk is interrupted when Jack opens the door suddenly.

“How did you-?”

“Either the elevator is broken or you’re freaking out.” He looks past Rhys’ shoulder for a moment. “And the elevator seems fine. Come on in, take your shoes off. Or,” he pointedly looks down. “Your...boots.”

“Hey, don’t shame the boots, these are great boots.” Rhys says as he toes them off. Now he’s standing there in his striped socks.  _ Sexy _ .

He’s trying to think of ways to distract Jack from noticing when he finally looks up and around. “Wow.”

Jack’s apartment is...not huge. Somehow Rhys had envisioned it as twice the size of his office, and even less furniture.

“Your apartment looks normal.”

“Don’t be so shocked, pumpkin.”

“No, I just mean,... It looks nice. Lived in.” There are several sofas with blankets and lots of pillows to sink into, a few pieces of nice art on the walls, and even some dirty dishes on the counter which make this place seem like a home. The only thing stabbing Rhys in the eye is the bright yellow wallpaper on one of the walls. “Bold choice.”

Jack sighs behind him. “Did you really come over to talk about interior design?”

Rhys turns around and sees him leaning casually against a door post. “Eh. No.”

He racks his brain to find the list of Things To Discuss, but comes up short. The anxious feeling in his chest is present though, a trusty old friend.

Jack steps closer and puts his hands on Rhys’ shoulders, grounding him. “Listen, cupcake, this doesn’t need to be anything special, okay? You like kinky sex, I like kinky sex, we can have kinky sex together. You don’t wanna date me, do you?”

_ Maybe _ . “No.”

“Great.” Jack smiles. “Then we keep going the way we are. Seriously kid, this is not that big of a deal.”

Rhys nods along. “Can we have one condition, though? Can we keep it limited to here, to your apartment? And everything stays normal at the office?”

“Sure,” Jack doesn’t hesitate. “Why?”

“Because, and don’t take this the wrong way, but you have this kind of air about you, I guess. I don’t act like myself, I forget how to function, almost. This thing we’re doing, it can’t be  _ ‘on’  _ all the time because I’ll make a fool of myself constantly. You make me act weird.”

“Not to be obvious here, but Rhys, I’m not  _ making  _ you do anything. Not yet anyway.” He winks. “But if you want some ground rules, that’s fine. We’ll make a list, like we’re in the sisterhood of the travelling pants.”

“That’s an obscure reference.” Rhys releases a sigh of relief, though. He had expected a lot more difficulty from Jack.

“Oh yeah? Mister ‘I came to my job interview with a Rachel haircut.’?”

Rhys turns bright red. “How do you know about that? You’re not supposed to know about that.” He specifically went to the hairdressers that same afternoon with the laughter still fresh in his ears. So he hadn’t cut his hair in a while, okay? 

“I read your personnel file. They have notes of your job interview.” Jack smirks.

“Unfair!”

“I’m so sad nobody thought to take the picture for your ID that day. I’m curious what you looked like.”

“Oh my god, shut  _ up _ .”

Jack leads them to the sofa and sits down, patting the seat for Rhys to follow. “Ask me your questions, kid. And be quick about it; I was hoping to get laid tonight.”

Rhys sits down eagerly, already feeling much more relaxed. “Okay, so… Kissing is okay, right?”

Without warning, Jack pulls him closer, cupping Rhys’ head as he kisses him deeply, tongue licking inside fast and dirty, and then he’s gone just as quickly, leaving Rhys a little breathless. “Yes, Rhys, kissing is okay.”

“Good, that’s…” He clears his throat. “That’s good.”

“What else?”

“What happens in here stays in here, so you’re not allowed to embarrass me at work.”

Jack nods his agreement. “I promise to only talk down to you at the office when you fuck something up for the company.”

“And we don’t tell anyone.”

“No problem.”

“And….That’s it.”

“We good now? You’re sure? We can get to the sex?”

Rhys blushes and moves to straddle Jack’s lap. “Yes, please.”

“Oh, such a polite boy!”

It’s like Rhys’ cheeks have caught on fire. The effect those words have on him are immediate, and Jack notices too. Of course he does.

“Rhys?

He shakes his head quickly. “Nope. Nuh-uh. We are not talking about that.”

Jack straight out laughs at him before humming. “Okay. Not today. But don’t think I’ll forget.”

“I’m sure you won’t,” Rhys mutters under his breath.

Jack tsks before using his finger to lift Rhys’ chin up. “What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing,  _ who _ ?”

Jack’s eyebrow is quirked and his long fingers are moving over Rhys’ chest, leaving trails of heat even through the shirt. Rhys watches as Jack’s hand keeps inching closer to his nipples but never going near enough to actually stimulate them.

“Nothing, Jack.”

A sharp pinch in his left nipple makes Rhys gasp. “Good,’ Jack says. “But that’s not what I meant.” He pulls at the fabric of Rhys’ shirt shortly, signaling for him to take it off.

As Rhys pulls the shirt over his head, he realises his hair must look like a tousled mess. Jack flattens it down a bit and puts a loose strand behind his ear, and Rhys could mistake the gesture for gentleness if a second later Jack’s fingers weren’t wrapping around his throat. Not squeezing or pushing, just waiting for Rhys to speak the right words.

“Nothing,” Rhys gulps and feels the slight pressure of fingers restricting the movement. “ _ Sir _ .”

With a wide smirk, Jack pulls him closer by the neck, and whispers, “Acceptable,” before kissing him. This time, Rhys isn’t caught off guard, though. He gladly participates, letting Jack lick inside before teasing him with a few nips at Jack’s lips. He lets his hands wander across Jack’s body, careful not to come close to his face (which he’s still curious about).

Rhys lets out a muffled shriek when Jack suddenly stands up with Rhys still on his lap, using his hands on Rhys’ ass for support. Rhys grabs onto Jack’s shoulders and quickly folds his ankles around Jack’s back for balance. He isn’t sure where they’re going when his back hits the wall roughly, and Jack’s hands are now wrapped around Rhys’ wrists, pushing them up against the wall and above his head. Rhys moves his face forward to catch Jack’s lips again, but the man pulls away suddenly, grinning while Rhys whines.

“I think you need to learn some restraint,” Jack says, and Rhys gets thrown onto the bed. Apparently they had made their way over to the bedroom then. “Take your pants off.”

Rhys hurries to comply as Jack looks for something in a box under the bed. 

“On your knees and face the headboard.”

His mind can’t help but go to bad places when he sees that the headboard has metal posts, and while he’s distracted, Jack fits some handcuffs onto him and secures him to the headboard. While Jack walks over to do the same on the other side, Rhys suddenly notes that while he’s completely naked and exposed, cock hanging hard and aching underneath him, Jack is still fully clothed and casually inspecting his work.

“Are you joining me, or…?” Rhys asks.

“Tut-tut, baby,” Jack chastises him. “Every time you talk back to me stops me from touching you.”

Rhys blushes at the petname, and whines before he can stop himself. “But-”

“You know what? I think I left something in the kitchen,” Jack says before striding confidently from the room.

_ Shithead _ , is what he wants to say. “Please,” is what comes out instead.

“Please, Jack,” he repeats, louder now, making sure Jack hears him in the other room. “I’m- I’m sorry.”

Rhys has to look over his shoulder to see the entrance to the bedroom, but soon enough Jack reappears, holding a glass of water and leaning against the doorframe. He sips his drink calmly before putting it on the bedside table and moving closer to Rhys.

Jack’s face is just a breath away from Rhys’ own, and Rhys whispers, “Please.”

“Please, who?” Jack’s eyes are searching his face, and Rhys never realized how beautiful those eyes actually are. The left one, green and warm, a strong contrast to the icy blue of the right eye that seems to pierce through Rhys at any given time.

He quickly mutters, “Please, sir,” before Jack grabs his head in both hands to turn towards him more and kisses him passionately. Rhys is struggling to keep up with Jack’s tongue licking inside and playing with his own, and he’s alternating between sucking and nipping at his lips. He can only do so much to match Jack as he’s squirming against his restraints. He wants to touch Jack so badly.

With great effort he pulls back slightly, feeling Jack’s fingers still cupping the sides of his face, and once again, he begs, “ _ Please _ , touch me.”

Jack must know he’s not talking about his face. The telltale smirk indicates as much, and Jack trails his fingers further down Rhys’ neck. As he touches Rhys’ skin, he moves to kneel behind him on the bed, his arm pulling Rhys closer to him. The movement aligns Rhys’ ass with Jack’s crotch, and Rhys doesn’t miss the opportunity to grind back against him. 

A sharp pinch at his nipple comes as retaliation, and a voice in his ear orders him, “Behave.”

Rhys bites down on his bottom lip, as by now he’s realized how often he makes involuntary sounds around Jack.

“Good boy.”

He exhales harshly in response, feeling like he just got punched in the chest. His cock is aching, and he can see steady beads of precome dripping down on the sheets. Then Jack’s hand moves down too, seeming to glide over his skin, inching closer to his dick before veering off and caressing the crease of his hip instead. Rhys’ cock jumps slightly, eager and touch-starved, and finally, blessedly, Jack wraps his fingers around it. Rhys hisses and throws his head back to lean against Jack’s shoulder, giving Jack the perfect angle to start sucking on his earlobe. The gentle licks paired with the almost painfully light touches on his cock make Rhys start to shake, and he squeezes his eyes closed tightly. He mustn’t make a sound, can’t let a single noise through.

All of a sudden he feels a gentle pressure against his hole, a fingertip massaging briefly around the rim. Rhys chokes on some air when the finger returns, now lubed and still rubbing, but pressing more firmly. 

“Rhys?” Jack pauses the ministrations on his ear.  “Baby?”

Rhys stands tense and rigid, praying he isn’t doing anything wrong.

“You can answer me.”

“Hmm,” his voice croaks. “Yes?”

The finger presses harder, and the tip slips inside, making Rhys moan suddenly, though he tries to bite it back.

Jack pushes in deeper, making slow thrusting motions so Rhys would get used to the intrusion, would relax into it. Rhys whimpers, and with every small thrust, his body moves with it.

‘Do you like this, baby?”

He mewls, and says, “Yes, d-” before biting his tongue.

“Say  _ thank you _ .”

“Thank you, daddy.” The word leaves Rhys’ mouth before he knows it, but the second finger pushing at his hole distracts him from feeling any shame.

“Good boy. You’re being really good for me, Rhysie.”

Jack quickly preps him with a third finger pushing in, and starts teasing his prostate. At first it’s searching, and slow, but once Rhys is shivering in Jack’s grip, Jack’s fingers start stimulating him more relentlessly. Rhys is a strung-out, sweaty mess, but he hasn’t come. He’s not allowed yet. He knows that much, even though they didn’t discuss it. He wants to be a good boy for Jack.

Rhys must have lost a few seconds or minutes being stuck in his own mind, because now one of Jack’s hands is at his throat and the other is guiding his cock inside Rhys’ hole.

“I’m gonna make you feel good, pumpkin, don’t you worry,” Jack says, and finally Rhys picks up on the strain in his voice. He’s filled with a sense of pride that he’s making Jack feel this way.

“Please.” It seems that’s all he’s able to say, but at the same time the word is all-encompassing. He’s not sure exactly what he’s asking for, but he knows Jack will deliver it regardless.

Jack’s cock pushes the rest of the way inside, and Rhys cries out in shock and pleasure. He’s trying his best to keep upright, leaning on his knees and arms stretched out by the headboard, but he’s shaking with adrenaline. 

After a few short thrusts, Jack starts to get a rhythm going, and he wraps his arm around Rhys to keep him steady. His left hand is still at Rhys’ neck, simply stroking the skin there and Rhys is on the brink of short-circuiting. Then suddenly, instead of feeling like he’s about to explode, he relaxes into everything. Euphoria fills his head, and he’s only vaguely aware of his surroundings. The quick and heavy pounding in his ass, the long line of heat along his stomach, the warm and soothing voice in his ears.

“Relax...I’ll take care of you...so good...Rhys...so good for me.”

It’s a surprise when he comes, cock barely touched at all, yet Rhys just moans through it, doesn’t even notice the mess he makes on the sheets.

“That’s it, baby.”

Rhys’ hands are wrapped around...something, and he uses it as leverage to support himself as he’s grabbed by the hips, and the pounding becomes faster, faint slapping noises in the distance.

Then his own voice rings through. “Please, daddy,” he whines. “Please, come inside me.”

“Don’t worry, baby. Just a little bit longer.”

A finger pushes at his lips, and Rhys greedily sucks on it to keep himself from whimpering more. 

With a final push inside, Rhys feels the warmth throughout his body, and he leans back as far as his restraints let him.

A kiss under his jaw, a hand smoothing the matted, sweaty hair away from his forehead and Rhys can only mutter, “Thank you, daddy.”

\---

Rhys wakes in an unfamiliar dark room, an arm slung across his chest and for the briefest moment, he’s filled with panic.

“Go back to sleep.” Jack’s voice whispers in his ear, and Rhys complies.


	3. Chapter 3

Sunlight streams through the curtains and stretches across the bed. Rhys wakes slowly and looks around blurry-eyed. When his vision focuses, he remembers where he is, and _exactly_ what happened yesterday. He quickly turns around to look at Jack, who’s sitting up in bed, scrolling on his phone.

“Hi,” Rhys’ voice croaks before he clears his throat.

“Morning, sunshine,” Jack replies, not looking up.

“So… I spent the night, huh.”

“Excellent observation skills.”

Rhys blushes as the memories from last night come back. He starts to sit up but his body is tired and uncooperative so he just flops back down and stares at the ceiling instead. It takes him a few seconds but then he does a double-take and looks back at Jack. “Are you wearing glasses?”

“Again, with the observational skills. What, you want a medal or something?”

It seems a little snappy, and Rhys’ instinct screams at him to apologize. “No, it’s not- I’m-” He sighs. “They look nice on you. I was just surprised.”

Jack finally spares him a glance, and the glasses make him look a) hot as fuck, but b) less severe, somehow. Rhys stops that train of thought while he still can.

“Fine print,” Jack says, as if that explains everything. “Don’t get used to them.”

He stretches his arms above his head, revealing more of his body that Rhys sees so little of, always hidden underneath dress shirts and jackets. Even last night, Rhys doesn’t remember Jack actually undressing. Not while Rhys was able to think rationally, anyway. It’s a damn shame, really, because Jack looks amazing. It looks like he showered while Rhys was asleep, his hair still damp and he’s only in dress pants, bare chest on display. Shit, Rhys has been doing nothing but gazing longingly while Jack continued getting ready. He realizes he must look like a lovestruck teenager so he quickly looks at the ceiling again, biting his lip and hoping Jack didn’t notice his stares.

It’s a mere second later when he realizes he should start getting up too.

“Don’t rush,” Jack says when Rhys attempts standing too quickly. “I need to go in early, but you can use the shower here if you want.”

Rhys looks around and finds his pants, but his shirt is missing. “Uh…”

Jack’s standing fully dressed in the doorway and he looks up from his phone again. The glasses are gone. Rhys refrains from pouting.

“I have no shirt...or underwear,” Rhys grimaces.

“Just grab something out of my dresser, I don’t care.”

Rhys finally manages to stand upright, and Jack walks over to him. He grabs Rhys’ chin to pull him closer and kisses him quick and dirty before saying, “Be good today.”

Rhys can only nod when Jack leaves the apartment, and his fingers trail over his tingling lips.

After a refreshing shower in the world’s fanciest bathroom, --featuring a quick jerk-off session when he saw the state he was in--, Rhys walks back into the bedroom, totally naked and dripping water onto the carpet. He’s towel drying his hair when he opens the first drawer of Jack’s dresser and he looks through the shirts there. There’s a surprising amount of t-shirts for a man as pristinely dressed as Jack, and that’s when he finds a bright yellow shirt. It features the Hyperion logo in the center, and Rhys drops his wet towel on the floor in favor of sniffing the shirt. It just smells like fabric softener, but it’s _Jack’s_ fabric softener. Rhys feels a little messed up for thinking that, but he also feels a little turned on. Of course the shithead has his own company’s merch in his wardrobe. Although...Rhys doesn’t think they sell this shirt, so Jack must have had it made specially. Yeah, Rhys is stealing it.

He picks some nondescript boxer briefs before pulling on his pants and the shirt, making his way over to the kitchen. The coffeepot is still warm, so Rhys quickly downs a mug before leaving the apartment. He still needs to travel home and change for work, and make sure he doesn’t have any marks to hide today.

He smirks on the subway as he remembers the wet towels and the mess he left in Jack’s bedroom. He’s looking forward to an angry phone call tonight.

 

\---

 

Even though Rhys has been giddy all day thinking about Jack getting home and discovering the state Rhys left his apartment in, his heart skips when his phone goes off that night.

The work day had been pleasant, Rhys being in a good mood from everything that happened the night before, and the easy and frankly, _domestic_ way he woke up this morning. Vaughn commented on it in the break room, asking him if he had met a special someone. Rhys tried to hide his blush but he couldn’t help smirking slightly. He tailed it out of the room when it looked like Vaughn was going to ask for more details.

He’s been home for about two hours, fidgeting and waiting for a reaction from Jack, when suddenly his phone chimes. Rhys almost drops the phone before he picks up and his shaky voice says, “H-Hello?”

“Rhys.”

Rhys’ knees buckle at the sound of Jack’s smooth voice in his ear. He clears his throat.

“Yes?” He hesitates before adding, “Sir?”

“Come to my apartment tomorrow night at eight. Bring an extra set of clothes.”

Tomorrow is friday. Does that mean he’s staying the night again? He doesn’t want to ask Jack, though.

“Sure,” he tries to keep his voice casual. “Anything else?” Jack hasn’t even mentioned anything about the wet towel and the messy bathroom.

“Yeah,” Jack says, sounding sly. “Don’t jerk off tonight. In fact, you’re not allowed to come until I see you tomorrow night.”

Rhys gulps.

“Is that understood?”

Jack’s authoritative tone has made Rhys hard, though, and he _really_ wants to take care of it.

“Rhys...don’t even think about touching yourself. Don’t think about rubbing your nipples until they grow into tight little nubs.”

 _Oh god_.

“Don’t you dare massage the palm of your hand against your hard length, going in circles against the head of your cock.”

Rhys moans, and tries sitting on his right hand so it won’t betray him.

“Don’t tease your slit. Don’t rub your balls. Don’t push against your taint. Don’t circle your finger against the rim of your tight little ass.”

His right hand is very much trying to go towards his ass, and Rhys’ eyes are closed, left hand holding on to the phone tightly. He’s sure he’s breathing heavily, and betraying a lot to Jack on the other end. He’s teasing his ass through his loose shorts with a finger, moving his hips back and forth to grind against it a little.

“Rhys…”

“Hmm?” He keeps moaning.

“Are you listening, baby?”

“Hmm, yes, sir.”

“Stop.”

Rhys stills on the couch.

“No coming.” Jack says, before hanging up.

 _Fuck_.

 

\---

 

Rhys likes to think he has excellent stamina. He prides himself on how long he can keep from coming, eager to help his partner to their release first. He started experimenting with edging himself when he was sixteen, Rhys is _a fucking pro._

Apparently, ten years of practice go out the window when Jack, the handsome bastard, tells him not to come. Somehow, suddenly, Rhys feels like shooting off every five minutes. His dick is in a perpetual state of hardness all night, and it takes him at least an hour before he can actually fall asleep.

Naturally, he wakes up hard. He lazily trails his fingers down, knowing he has some time before his next and final phone alarm goes off, and he starts lightly touching the shaft of his cock. He’s teasing himself, and he feels the precome dripping down, imagines Jack’s voice in his head. He’s speaking words of encouragement, of praise, and just when Rhys thinks it’s time to start gripping himself more firmly, he remembers Jack’s orders from last night.

_No coming._

Rhys groans as he jumps from the bed and lifts his hands in the air, avoiding touching his cock.

“Fucking shitface,” he grumbles as he walks over to his tiny bathroom.

He mopes the entire time he’s in the shower, and mentally apologizes to his dick, which seems to glare at him.

“Buddy, I know. I’m so sorry.” Apparently he talks to his dick now. That’s great. _He’s not giving him a name._

At least he can restrain himself at the office, the mountain of work is an excellent distraction and there’s nothing vaguely sexual around that could set him off. Other than the fact...that Jack is a few floors above him. Probably looking hot as fuck in his suit. Rhys remembers the thick-framed glasses, and bites his lips to keep from whimpering. It’s only when Vaughn walks past him with a strange look on his face that Rhys straightens up and clears his head. Back to work. He needs to make Jack proud.

 

\---

 

There’s...an iron loop, screwed into the floor. Rhys is pretty sure that wasn’t there before.

“Was that there before? That wasn’t there before. Right?”

Jack smirks at him and shrugs. “I don’t know, Rhys. Was it?”

Rhys squints. “What’s it for?”

“Now why would I already tell you that,” Jack steps closer to him and cups his cheek, “when you haven’t even greeted me properly?”

A brief second passes where Rhys mentally debates what the right move is, before he grabs Jack’s hip to pull him closer and kisses him. He uses all his favorite tricks, biting at Jack’s bottom lip, lightly sucking on it and finally just going all out and sloppily licking inside until Jack pushes him back.

“Good evening, sir.” Rhys grins sweetly and licks his own lips.

Jack clears his throat once before he opens his mouth. “I see you’re feeling playful tonight.”

Not being able to come in the last two days meant Rhys had a lot of pent up energy, which resulted in him being a little cheekier. Really, it was Jack’s own fault.

“The loop,” he starts, nodding at it. “It’s for your punishment.”

Rhys blinks. “My...punishment?”

“What, you think I forgot about the mess you left in here? Your actions have consequences, kid.”

“But I thought-” Rhys stops himself.

Jack grabs him by his throat, lifting Rhys’ chin up with his thumb. He steps closer, and Rhys feels like all he’s inhaling is Jack’s air. “What did you think, cupcake?”

Rhys looks down petulantly, and refuses to answer.

“Tell daddy what you thought, Rhysie.”

Jesus fucking Christ, Rhys feels weak. He’s melting in Jack’s grip, and he notices his hands have been clenched in Jack’s shirt this entire time.

“I thought, maybe, that...me not coming was the punishment,” he admits.

“Oh, baby.” Jack smiles at him. “That was just the start.”

 

\---

 

It starts with just a blindfold. No big deal, Rhys thinks, he’s always wanted to test if his other senses heightened when losing his sight. He can feel the smallest gusts of air when Jack walks around him, the only indicator of where Jack is until his dress shirt is pulled open. Well...ripped open. He can hear the tiny buttons flying around him, clinking softly on the floor. If Rhys wasn’t already _in the midst of being punished_ , he’d comment on how expensive the shirt had been.

Calloused thumbs start rubbing at his nipples, and when they pebble up, a warm mouth wraps around one. Jack licks around it until Rhys starts to shake from keeping his moans quiet, and breathes cool air over the abused patch of skin before switching to the other nipple.

Hands clenched at his side, Rhys struggles to stand still. There are no restraints, nothing holding him back but the knowledge that if he doesn’t persevere, things will only get worse.

Jack slides the shirt down his arms gently, a firm switch in behaviour from just minutes before, and the light touch makes Rhys’ skin hypersensitive. He’s biting on his lip so hard, he’s surprised it hasn’t started bleeding yet.

“Baby,” Jack whispers in his ear, “I’ll give you a choice. You can lose the blindfold, and see everything I have in store for you tonight, _but only_ if you stay quiet throughout the whole thing. You can’t talk, can’t whimper, can’t moan or cry out for me to go _harder, daddy, harder_.”

Rhys exhales heavily as Jack moaned those last words in his ear. Not being able to make any noises sounds like torture.

“Or,” Jack continues after slowly trailing kisses across Rhys’ neck. “You can make all the noise you want, without limit, but you have no idea what I’m doing to you next. The blindfold stays on until I say so. And trust me, the list of things I want to do to you is _long_.”

A lesser man than Rhys would have come untouched by now. _Fuck_ , how is Jack so good at this?

“So what will it be, Rhysie?” Jack nips at his earlobe. “You wanna see all the ways I’m gonna fuck you tonight or do you wanna be surprised?”

Rhys whimpers, because he’s allowed. “Surprise me.”

Jack gives him a chaste kiss, making Rhys sway forward. “Good choice. Drop your pants.”

Rhys makes quick work of his belt, button and zipper, letting his slacks fall down. He steps out of them and pushes them away with his feet in the direction of what he hopes is the bathroom.

“What do I do about…” Rhys pulls at the elastic waistband of his boxers.

“Take them off,” Jack orders.

When Rhys complies and kicks his underwear away as well, he feels Jack’s hands around his arms to guide him forward.

“Lean against the wall and bend over a little bit. Spread your legs.”

Even without his vision, Rhys is sure he’s dripping precome on Jack’s expensive flooring. He’s still not used to being allowed to talk, so he decides to test the waters.

“Like this?” He leans one forearm against the wall and uses the other to spread his cheeks apart.

A quick smack against his ass makes him jump and squeal a little, and Jack’s hand comes back quickly to knead the sensitive flesh of his cheek. “Yes, baby, exactly like that.”

He’s expecting Jack to start touching around his hole, or to grab the lube to finger him, which is why it’s such a surprise when there’s movement around his front and the sudden tight and restricting feeling tells him Jack has put a cockring on him. _Fucking bastard_. Wait, he can speak now.

“Godfucking-” Rhys stops when Jack’s hand comes around his throat and squeezes a little.

“Tsk tsk, Rhysie,” Jack says. “I said you could be loud, not that you could be rude.”

“I’m sorry,” Rhys mutters.

“You’re sorry, _who_?”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

Jack’s hand squeezes just a little tighter before he lets go. “We’ll work on that, don’t you worry.”

When Rhys is sufficiently distracted by the tightness around his dick, he can feel Jack’s slick finger rubbing around his rim. Rhys gasps when it enters him, and Jack is quick to jab it inside a couple of times while Rhys wails. Rhys drops his forehead to the arm in front of him, and the hairs at the back of his neck stand up when Jack whispers in his ear, “We’re gonna need to loosen you up pretty well for what comes next, baby.”

“What-,” Rhys moans as Jack’s fingers press right against his prostate, “What do you mean?”

Jack bites his shoulder gently. “I’m not telling you that. Remember the rules?”

Rhys whines, then cries out as a fourth finger starts nudging around his hole. Jack hasn’t used four fingers before. He wouldn’t prep Rhys with four fingers if he was gonna fuck him. So why is his hole being prepped for something big? Bigger than Jack’s dick, which was already impressive.

“I can hear your little brain working away, Rhysie. Do you think you’re ready for the next part?”

“Hmm, yes.”

A nudge against his prostate urges him to say more.

“Yes, please.”

Jack’s hand reaches around and squeezes Rhys cock painfully.

“Sir! Yes, please, sir!”

“That’s better,” Jack hums in his ear, and takes his hand off of Rhys’ cock to tease at his nipples. “Get on your knees.”

Rhys whimpers at the sudden empty feeling in his ass, but he kneels down immediately. He can feel Jack’s fingers lifting his chin up and urging him forward. He crawls a few feet on the floor, until Jack’s hand on his shoulder tells him to stop.

“Lean forward, hands on the floor,” Jack orders.

Rhys is shaking with adrenaline, and strangely enough, given permission to speak has made him more quiet than ever before.

His left nipple is being played with again, and Rhys bites his lip before there’s a sudden pinch on his nipple, like it’s been clamped. Shit, it probably has, Jack has put on a nipple clamp. He can hear some noise, but has no clue how to place it, and then there’s Jack’s thumb at his right nipple. He prepares himself for the pinch of the clamp, but still yelps as it’s attached.

“Holy fuckballs, that stings.” He can hear Jack chuckle in response above him. “Jesus fuck.”

His cock is painfully hard between his legs, cockring squeezing the base and preventing him from coming anytime soon. His cock is leaking like crazy, though, and Rhys decides he doesn’t give a flying crap about Jack’s flooring anymore. He’s going to have so many stains. Jack will never be able to forget Rhys was here, and that thought pleases him _immensely_.

“I can see you grinning, cupcake. Are you having fun, huh? Is daddy not punishing you hard enough?”

Sweet lord, Jack saying the word ‘daddy’ makes Rhys so weak, and he’s already on the floor.

Rhys chuckles and Jack’s hand lands at the base of his neck. “Say it, Rhys.”

“Say what?” Rhys wiggles his hips as best he can in his position.

“Tell me you need more punishment.” Jack bites his earlobe and smacks his ass hard.

Rhys mewls and says, “Punish me harder, daddy.”

Jack growls in his ear, “No problem, kid.”

The hand on his neck disappears, and for a second, Rhys thinks Jack has left the room again. Then there’s a sudden nudge against his hole, and it feels slightly cold and slick. It’s big, definitely bigger than Jack’s cock, and as it slips further inside, it dawns on Rhys that he’s being fucked with a dildo. A very large, ribbed dildo. Jack pushes it into his ass to the hilt, and Rhys has never felt so full.

“Mother of fuck!” He screams out as Jack rubs his perineum, then thrusts the dildo in and out a couple of times.

“This seems to fit you quite well.”

Rhys is breathing heavily, but he still hasn’t moved from his spot on the floor. He’s being good for Jack. He deserves this punishment. He was a bad boy.

“You know, I feel like I’m doing all the work here. I think it’s time you showed me how sorry you are.” Jack takes the dildo out and Rhys hears a squelching sound behind him. Then Jack’s hands are at his hips, moving his ass backwards until the dildo nudges at his entrance again.

He lifts himself up on his arms to sit more comfortably, but is stopped from stretching by a tight pinching feeling at his nipples.

“What the fuck-” He falls forward again, and reaches out with his hand. There is a chain. His nipple clamps are connected by a chain, and --he feels around on the floor--, the chain goes through the loop, keeping him chained to the floor by the nipples. “Oh, you fucking bastard.”

“Don’t be rude, baby.” The comment is accompanied by a sharp smack against his cheek. I can always get a shorter chain.”

“No, I’ll-,” Rhys whimpers. “I’ll be good. Daddy, I’ll be good.”

Jack’s hand lifts Rhys head up and grabs his chin. “Okay, baby.” He kisses Rhys quickly. “Show me.”

It takes a while before Rhys finds the ideal position. The chain tugs at his nipples constantly, and it’s difficult to slide the dildo back into his hole while it’s sucked onto the floor behind him. He can only slide down onto the dildo a couple inches before the clamps pull at him and he needs to move off again. It’s supremely unsatisfying, because the dildo doesn’t reach deep enough to stimulate his prostate, but it feels so nice and slick, and _thick_ , he can’t stop trying.

“You look so good like this, Rhysie.” Jack’s voice comes from somewhere to his left, and Rhys tries to look in his direction.

“Please, daddy,” he whines. He has lost all semblance of time, and has no clue how long he’s been riding the dildo.

Jack’s hand cups his jaw. “Please, what, baby?”

“I want you so badly.” That may be a little more honest than Rhys had intended. “I want you inside me. Please, daddy.”

“I’m proud of you for asking so nicely, my good boy.” Jack’s thumb rests across his adam’s apple and it calms Rhys instantly. His head goes foggy as Jack licks inside his mouth and suckles on his tongue. He’s slow to react, and eventually just lets Jack take whatever he wants.

The fog clears as Jack releases the clamp on one of his nipples and the sudden freedom feels more painful than the tight pinch. The other nipple is freed too, and Jack moves Rhys until he’s sitting upright, then wraps his mouth around a nipple. Rhys wails as Jack licks around the abused pebble, kisses it and moves to do the same to the other one.

“Please, please,...” Rhys whines, repeating the word over and over again.

“Show me how far you can take it, pumpkin. I wanna see your ass hit the floor, and then I’ll take you apart myself.”

Finally able to move more freely, Rhys nudges the dildo back inside and drops down completely, taking it all in one go. He bounces on it, still crying out the word ‘please’ as his cock flops back against his underbelly.

“You’re showing off, baby. You’re lucky I like it.”

A few minutes later, Rhys finds himself lying on the bed. His cock is twitching painfully, but he can’t even touch himself because Jack has tied his hands to his thighs. His legs are spread and in the air, and the blindfold is still in place. Jack is rubbing up and down the back of Rhys’ thighs and Rhys thrashes his head on the pillow.

“Please, daddy, I want it. _Please_ , stop teasing me, I’m so sorry.”

“I know, baby. You’ve been a very good boy for me.” Jack says, before he pushes inside and Rhys heaves a heavy sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” he moans as Jack starts thrusting slowly. “Thank you.”

Jack leans over him and his hand folds around Rhys’ throat, squeezing softly. “You look so good, baby. And you’re so sensitive here. Would you like it if I put a collar on you, huh?”

Rhys stills abruptly and his heart skips a beat at the thought. “No. Please, no. Daddy.” He starts panicking, and suddenly the blindfold disappears.

He squeezes his eyes shut at the sudden influx of light, and tries to adjust. When he opens his eyes again, Jack has leaned in close, and is rubbing his jaw.

“Hey, hey, baby. Look at me. Tell me what’s wrong.” Jack’s voice is so soft, and worried, and Rhys' heart breaks a little.

“No collar, please. Only you. Your hands. Nothing else. Only you can touch me. Please, daddy.”

“Okay, baby. I promise, only my hands. Only I can touch you, isn’t that right?”

Rhys nods frantically, and moans as Jack’s thrusts start up again.

“Tell me.”

“Only you.”

Jack unclasps the cockring and as all the blood rushes back to his cock, Jack’s thrusts aim for Rhys’ prostate. It only takes a few thrusts before Rhys moans his way to orgasm, _finally_.

“Only you,” he repeats. “Yours.”

Jack’s thrusts grow erratic before he finally stills and spills inside with a groan.

Rhys whines softly when Jack slips out and disappears from the room briefly. He comes back with a wet towel and cleans Rhys off, then undoes the ties around his wrists and thighs. He starts to massage Rhys’ wrists and checks on his nipples.

“Any pain?”

Rhys feels like he could fall asleep at any moment, but he makes sure to answer with a small grin. “Only good pain.”

He reaches out his hand to pull Jack closer. Jack seems to get the message and cradles Rhys’ head closer to kiss him deeply.

“You did really well today.”

Rhys is too tired for anything other than short pecks all over Jack’s lips. “For you.”

“Thank you, baby. Get some sleep, we can have a lie in tomorrow.”

Rhys smiles as he feels Jack’s strong arms around him and he drifts off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so so sorry about the 2,5 month wait but i hope you like the extra long chapter to make up for it! <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to the people who follow this as each chapter comes out: good god i am so sorry

In the morning, Rhys wakes with a jolt and sits up. The aching muscles all over his body serve as a reminder of last night, and he’s quick to drop himself down on the mattress again. The space next to him is empty, but still warm, so he only panics for a second before the bedroom door opens and Jack walks in with two mugs. He’s wearing long silk pyjama trousers and nothing else.

“How do you take your coffee? I can go get milk and sugar if you want.”

“It’s fine-”

Jack stops him with a knowing look. “Tell me how you like your coffee, Rhys.”

“Sugar, please,” Rhys replies, pointedly looking anywhere but at Jack.

Jack leaves the room again, and Rhys sits up in the bed. His thighs ache, and so do his nipples for that matter. He realizes he’s completely naked, and gets up to quickly rummage through Jack’s drawers for some boxers. He’s not even pretending to look for his own.

When Jack comes back with his coffee, Rhys half expects to get a speech about him having to leave, but to his surprise, Jack settles down on the bed next to him.

“Morning,” he says, before taking a sip.

“I… Morning,” Rhys mumbles back.

“I take it you’re not a morning person?” Jack asks, after the silence stretches for a few minutes.

Rhys shakes his head. He’s glad he can blame his confusion on it being early, he’d feel really stupid if he just belted out ‘ _ Why are you so nice right now? _ ’. Though that is the question on his mind. Jack is acting strangely, or, not strange at all, which, for Jack, is very strange indeed.

Jack reaches over and flattens out the lines on Rhys’ forehead with his thumb.

“Everything okay?”

Rhys nods before lying down on his side and looking at Jack. He feels safer, somehow, with his face half-buried in the pillow.

“Do you wanna sleep some more? I can head into the study, or…?”

Rhys shakes his head again.

“You know, you’re being uncharacteristically quiet.”

Rhys shrugs and gives a soft smile. Frankly, he’s scared that if he opens his mouth, feelings will come out.

Jack’s glasses make a comeback when he starts to read on his phone --work e-mails, Rhys assumes while watching-- and when he finishes a few minutes later, Jack puts the phone down.

“How about some breakfast?”

They stand side by side as they make their sandwiches, and it takes Rhys a while to decide, since Jack seems to have an entire supermarket in his fridge. 

They move back to the bed to eat, Jack reassuring Rhys that the maid will change the sheets later anyway, and munch on their sandwiches in relative silence. Rhys can’t help but glance at Jack’s glasses every so often though, and when Jack catches him looking, he chuckles.

“Are they that bad? I have it on good authority that they suit me.”

“And by that, you mean the shop manager?”

“Oh, so now you’re awake enough to tease, huh?” Jack lifts his eyebrow.

“I’m sorry! Sorry!” Rhys giggles. “No really, they do look good on you. Very nice.”

“Is that why you keep staring?”

Rhys feels the blush spread on his cheeks and clears his throat.

“So, what are you doing today?”

“You, hopefully.”

Rhys chokes on his sandwich.

Jack smirks at him. “But first I need a shower. And so do you.”

Jack drags him to the bathroom where they wash quickly before Jack sinks to his knees and takes Rhys’ cock into his mouth without so much as a warning. Rhys struggles to find something to hold onto that isn’t Jack’s head, but gives in after a few seconds. 

The sight of Jack on his knees before him is already testing him, but the added warm heat around his cock, the suction, gentle licks, and the  _ humming and moaning _ make sure it only takes a few minutes before Rhys pushes desperately at Jack’s head. Jack doesn’t move away though, just keeps blowing him until Rhys comes with a groan and leans on Jack’s shoulders for fear of falling down. 

When Jack releases him, it’s with an audible pop and Rhys stares transfixed at Jack swallowing his come and licking his lips.

Rhys is still speechless when Jack rises and kisses him briefly. 

“You… I… What…”

“What? I like cock too. Now turn around and clench your thighs together.”

\---

About an hour later, Rhys is lying face down on the bed, in nothing but the jockstrap Jack has asked him to wear. He’s trying his hardest not to move, but the anticipation of not knowing when Jack will join him, and not being able to see the door, is making his entire body itch. The fact that his hard erection is pressing into the mattress isn’t helping either, and there’s too many layers of fabric to get any good friction going.

Rhys startles when he feels hands touching his calves, and his legs being spread. The hands move upwards to start kneading his thighs, and then his cheeks. The next touch he feels isn’t from Jack’s hands though. The warm length of Jack’s cock rubs against his crack, and the gentle thrusting motions make Rhys shiver.

He reaches back with his hands and grabs Jack’s thighs, guiding him forward, begging for more friction. He’s not allowed to speak again, but at least he’s free to touch where he wants. Hands drop beside his head and Jack bites his shoulder. 

“Don’t get greedy, baby.” His thrusts grow even slower, and Rhys can’t stop the loud whine that leaves his mouth. Suddenly his head gets pushed into the mattress as Jack presses down on his neck, and Rhys turns his head quickly so he doesn’t choke on the duvet. After a few seconds, Jack releases his neck and kisses right under his ear.

Every few thrusts, Jack’s cock slips and nudges against Rhys’ waiting hole, and every time he pushes for a bit longer. He’s opening Rhys up the slowest way possible, and Rhys has resorted to biting the sheets to stop from making a sound.

When Rhys’ slick hole opens up enough for Jack’s cock to slip in, Rhys reaches back and scratches Jack’s thighs up. Jack’s weight leaves the bed, and Rhys doesn’t dare turn around to see what happened. He wonders if Jack is going to leave the room again, but his doubts quickly disappear when Jack reappears with a belt. He has a brief moment of panic before Jack ties Rhys’ wrists together.

“It’s clear to me that you can’t behave well today, Rhysie. It seems you need some more training.” Jack must have noticed his reaction to the belt, because he leans in and asks him, “You okay, baby?”

Rhys quickly nods. “Please keep going,” he says with a soft voice.

Jack fastens the belt around his wrists, and pulls on it so he can control the movement of Rhys’ arms. “Get on your knees.”

It’s a struggle to move back up without his arms to lean on, but he leans on his head before he notices Jack is pulling his upper body up with the belt. He feels Jack enter him slowly before he pushes in deep. Rhys looks down his own body to see his hard, leaking cock peeking out from under the waistband of the jockstrap.

After a few hard thrusts, Jack starts using the belt to move Rhys’ entire body onto Jack’s waiting cock. His left hand squeezes Rhys’ hip so tightly there’s sure to be bruises there tomorrow. When Rhys doesn’t push back enough on Jack’s cock, he gets a stinging slap on his left cheek. The first one makes him squawk in surprise and he is rewarded with a second slap, in the exact same place. 

The slapping sound of his ass hitting Jack’s hips fills his ears before it drifts away into darkness. He drops his head and just stares through his own legs at Jack’s. He vaguely notices when Jack’s arms reach around him and pull him to his chest. It’s Jack’s hand resting on his throat that gets him to give in to the drop fully, though.

 

Rhys feels too tired to open his eyes, but there’s a hand near his oversensitive crotch, so he tries to slap it away.

“Relax, baby, I’m just cleaning you up.”

The whine leaves his throat before he even realizes he’s made a sound. “Come back,” he mumbles.

“I’m right here.” Jack says, crawling back into bed with him. “Sit up a little, babe, you should drink some water.”

“Don’t wanna-”

“Rhys, sit up, or I’ll make you sit up. Your choice.”

Rhys decidedly does not move, so he gets pulled into Jack’s lap and leans back into the warm chest behind him. After he empties the glass, he nuzzles into Jack’s neck.

 

It’s around eleven at night when Jack guides Rhys to the elevator. Rhys, now dressed in Jack’s sweatpants and a nondescript white t shirt, gets pushed against the wall one last time as Jack licks into his mouth, ending the kiss with a bite to his bottom lip. 

When the elevator doors close after Jack’s cheery “See you at work!”, Rhys leans heavily on the wall behind him. He’s been through a fuck-athlon over the past thirty-six hours, and he hasn’t felt this good  _ and  _ this exhausted simultaneously in a long, long time.

When he arrives at his own run-down apartment, he just drops his bag on the floor and faceplants into his mattress.

\---

Rhys is hesitant to put a name on this thing they’ve been doing, but every friday night for a few weeks now, Rhys gets invited to Jack’s apartment. Depending on how nice Rhys has been throughout the week, he is either punished or rewarded. Either way, they have a lot of sex.

After the first week, Jack requested they only get together during weekends. The barely hidden underlying message being that Jack didn’t want to be distracted from his work during the week, and Rhys felt pride run through his chest when he realized his presence was that affective.

They do call, however, at least twice a week. Well. Jack calls, usually. Rhys eagerly waits and stares down his erection. Eventually, Jack gets full control over his orgasms. He isn’t allowed to masturbate in the mornings, or at night, unless Jack gives his express permission during their phone calls. Sometimes Jack will call just to make Rhys listen to him jerking himself off, while he isn’t allowed to do anything himself. The first hand Jack would lay on him friday night would usually be enough to make Rhys hiss and bite his lip, trying so hard not to come in his pants.

One day, a package is delivered to his apartment, and inside Rhys finds a cockring and an assortment of butt plugs in different sizes. One of the butt plugs is stainless steel and even has a chain connecting it to a steel cockring. The note attached simply says, ‘Pick one and bring it with you this weekend.’ He looks at the stainless steel one he’s holding and knows it won’t be a hard choice.

That friday, Jack puts Rhys on hands and knees on the bed and ties him to the frame. Rhys gets blindfolded, and Jack fucks him, rough and careless, until he comes inside and replaces his own cock with the plug Rhys brought with him. He leaves Rhys on the bed, cockring and plug in place, and comes back an hour later to fuck Rhys again. Though he fucks Rhys every hour, he doesn’t come every time; he explains to Rhys that it’s just nice to fit his cock into a snug warm place, fuck himself hard, and go back to the living room.

By the time Jack unties him, Rhys has dropped to the mattress and started rubbing against it slowly. He’s too out of it to put actual effort in, but he’s moaning steadily when Jack guides him onto his back, takes the cockring off and wraps his mouth around Rhys’ tormented, red hot cock. It only takes a few licks and a gentle suck before Rhys comes down Jack’s throat with a shout.

After that, Jack carries him to the shower and helps clean him. All Rhys remembers is Jack’s come trickling down his thighs, and Jack’s hands in his hair as he rinses the shampoo out. The next day, Jack rims Rhys until he cries, to make up for the abuse his ass suffered the night before.

\---

On a Wednesday, quite unexpectedly, Rhys gets called into Jack’s office. The entire elevator ride up, Rhys quietly panics and starts racking his brain to figure out what it might be about. They promised to keep work and sex separated, so Rhys thinks about his recent projects, but can’t find anything fishy. Then his mind goes to last night’s phone call, but that seemed perfectly normal too. Jack even let Rhys come after having him finger himself for a good half hour.

When Rhys walks into Jack’s office and sees Jack’s tired and angry face, he stops thinking and quickly makes his way over to stand in front of the desk.

“What’s wrong?”

Jack’s hands are shaking, and it’s taking all Rhys has to stop himself from grabbing one of them and kissing it.

“I have a request,” Jack says. “A proposition.”

Rhys steps closer. Somehow he knows that none of Jack’s anger is directed at him, and realizes he would do anything to help him, however he can.

“Tell me. Please.”

“I know what we said...about sex at the office…” Jack trails off.

Rhys nods and waits.

“But if you blow me, right here, right now; and you don’t ask any questions, I’ll make it up to you this weekend.”

Rhys is nodding before Jack finishes the sentence. “Okay. Of course, daddy.”

Jack looks up, seemingly surprised at how quickly Rhys agreed. “It won’t be gentle.”

That makes Rhys smile. “When is it?” he teases. He kneels in front of Jack’s chair and leans in as he releases Jack’s cock from it’s confines. “You can use me, daddy.”

After his first lick, Rhys takes one of Jack’s hands and puts it on his neck. The other hand finds its way into Rhys’ hair. Rhys takes the head in his mouth and licks around the crown, swallowing the tangy precome and teasing the slit. He glances at Jack’s face and sees him staring with hard eyes.

“Keep going. Open wide.”

Rhys complies and takes more of Jack’s cock in, tongue gliding over the underside and his lips, stretched wide, suck around him. Jack’s hand in his hair pulls him forward as the other squeezes gently around his throat. Rhys takes him deeper and allows himself to choke a little.

“Deep,” Jack’s gruff voice commands him.

Rhys closes his eyes as he pushes further forward, taking Jack as deep as he can before his air supply is cut off for too long, and pulls off. He licks at the spit coating his lips and chin.

“Yeah. Again.”

Rhys breathes in deeply and takes Jack back in until his nose brushes against coarse hairs. He grabs Jack’s thighs for leverage and chokes on his cock.

“Just like that.”

Rhys needs a second to recover and only takes Jack in about halfway before the hand in his hair pulls again.

“All the way.”

Tears are steadily running down his cheeks, but when Rhys looks up, Jack is still watching him stone-faced. He takes Jack down again, and can feel the hand that’s pressing against his throat, feeling where Jack’s cock is squeezing through. Rhys splutters when he moves back a bit and takes another deep breath in, but Jack’s hand is already there.

“Again.”

Rhys coughs and feels how abused his throat is. Still, he leans in again and swallows around Jack’s cock. Jack holds him still as he pushes his hips upwards and starts fucking Rhys’ mouth. Rhys squeezes his eyes shut and lets Jack take what he needs. Every once in a while, he gags and Jack gives him a second. Only a second, though, and then he resumes thrusting. Eventually, Rhys’ face is pushed into Jack’s crotch while Jack comes down his throat, thrusting one last time for good measure.

When he’s finished, Rhys sits back and waits for his vision to sharpen again. He reaches up to wipe his tears and drool away, but Jack’s hand stops him. Rhys looks up, and still, Jack is silently staring at him. Then he wipes his thumb under Rhys’ eye and cups his face.

“Jack-” Rhys’ throat hurts as he tries to talk, and a very hoarse voice comes out.

Jack doesn’t let him speak, though. “You can go home early. Take my elevator down to the parking lot so no one sees you.”

Jack takes some tissues to wipe his cock with and puts it back in his pants. He zips up and waits for Rhys to stand and move away from his desk before he nudges his computer awake again.

“Friday?” It’s only one word, but it burns as Rhys tries to say it. It still comes out a little garbled.

Jack nods. “See you Friday, Rhys.”

\---

Rhys’ reward starts by getting tied to the bed. It’s very similar to Rhys’ punishments, if he’s honest, but he’s curious and excited for what Jack will do  _ to  _ and  _ with  _ him. 

He’s naked and lying spread-eagle on his back, wrists firmly tied to the headboard with silk ropes. Before Jack fastens the last knot, he asks Rhys, “You’re sure this is okay?” Rhys bites his own lip to stop the adoring smile from appearing on his face. Instead, he nods.

Jack’s eyebrow rises. “What was that?”

“Yes, please.”

“Baby, I know you know better,” Jack scolds him.

“Please, daddy.”

“Good boy.”

Rhys shivers from the praise, and he’s sure he’s sporting a blush. He just saw his erection twitch in response as well, and Jack hums in approval. Before he knows it, Jack’s calloused thumbs are rubbing over his nipples, and Rhys gasps as one is sucked into a warm mouth. His soft tongue moves around it before he bites down. Rhys takes a deep breath in and nearly chokes on his tongue when Jack’s mouth switches to the other nipple. Fingers move onto the recently abandoned nub, making sure to pinch it with fingernails, cutting into the sensitive flesh while Rhys squeezes his eyes shut with a hiss.

When both nipples are hard and pebbled, Rhys can feel Jack’s weight move off the bed as he fetches something. He bites his lip when Jack fits on a rubber cockring, making sure to wrap around his balls too. He groans at the tightness of it all, and at the barely-there touch of Jack’s finger on the underside of his cock. Jack kisses his protruding hipbone before lightly kissing the head of Rhys’ cock.

“Now then,” Jack starts. “You’ve been very good this week.”

Rhys nods, a small smirk on his lips.

“How many orgasms should you get? Hmm?” Jack’s warm hands rub up and down Rhys’ thighs.

“I don’t know,” Rhys says, after failing to shrug with his arms tied. “However many you think I deserve, daddy.”

“Good answer.” Jack rewards him with a deep kiss, tongue pushing in fast and dizzyingly. His fingers sinking into Rhys’ hair make him feel warm all the way down to his toes. “I’m not going to make it easy for you, though.”

Cool liquid being drizzled onto his cock startles Rhys, and then Jack’s hand wraps around him, quickly ensuring he’s slick all over.

Jack makes a fist and holds it over the head of Rhys’ cock, squeezing his fingers tight. Then his fist moves down, and Rhys moans as his cock pushes through. Jack quickly moves on to simple up-and-down motions, and the sound of his slippery hand on Rhys’ lubed cock is dirty and loud in the bedroom. Jack jerks him off quick and fast, then stops suddenly as Rhys’ cock strains. He pets Rhys’ balls lightly, then trails a finger up his cock.

Rhys groans and lifts his head to glare at Jack. “Wh-”

“You didn’t think it’d be that fast, did you?”

“Fuck-”

Jack rubs the palm of his hand over the head of Rhys’ cock which makes him choke on what he wanted to say.

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.” Jack’s voice is pitched low and husky, such a perfect combination Rhys can’t help but drool a little. “And instead, you’re going to tell me every time you’re close to coming.”

Rhys gulps.

“If you come when you’re not allowed, the reward is over, baby. I’ve helped you out by giving you the cockring, but if it isn’t enough to hold you back, and you come, I’ll be very disappointed in you. You know what happens when you don’t do what daddy says.”

Rhys nods and gulps again.

“Tell me what happens then, cupcake.”

“I get punished,” Rhys whispers.

“And we don’t want that, now do we, baby?”

“No, daddy.”

“Good boy.”

Rhys blushes as one of Jack’s hands comes back to jerk him quick and dirty while the other folds around his balls. The sensation makes Rhys release a heavy gasp. “Daddy, I-”

Jack’s hand moves back and they both watch as Rhys’ red-hot cock twitches. He only gets a second’s rest before Jack starts again.

The next time Rhys warns Jack, the tight fist returns and squeezes around him like a tight hole would. Those movements are slow and infuriating, possibly worse than the quick and slick handjob.

The muscles in his stomach are clenching as he feels himself growing closer again, and Rhys moans, ‘Sir, daddy,-’.

It’s amazing to see what his own body does when it’s refused to orgasm. His legs feel restless, and he keeps moving his hips on the bed as his cock looks for any type of friction.

His legs fall open as Jack tugs at him, making sure there’s no rhyme or reason to when he speeds up or tightens his squeeze. He keeps Rhys on edge, transfixed on his own cock. Even a single finger resting on his balls makes Rhys twitch.

It could be minutes or hours since they started, Rhys has lost all semblance of time. All he knows is that he wants to come  _ so badly _ , and his cock has turned an unnatural shade of purple.

Rhys is groaning out Jack’s name again, releasing a steady string of ‘Daddy, please, I’m gonna come.’ Jack’s hand doesn’t move off though, and as it speeds up, Rhys starts begging. “ _ Please, please, please. _ ”

“It’s okay.”

The words have barely left Jack’s mouth before Rhys comes with a shout. There’s come on his chest and even on his chin, but Jack’s hand isn’t slowing. He’s still jerking Rhys, right through the aftershocks.

“Daddy, please.  _ Daddy, please! _ ” Rhys wails.

When Jack finally releases him from his grasp, Rhys sinks into the mattress, feeling his own body finally relax. “I’m sorry.”

Jack moves from his side to straddle Rhys and kiss him slowly. “That’s okay, baby. I told you it was okay.”

Rhys is still releasing heavy breaths, can see his own chest moving up and down from the exertion, when there’s movement in the corner of his eye.

Rhys’ cock hasn’t gone down at all when Jack scoots back and shows him what he’s holding.

“What-,” he swallows, “What’s that?”

Jack drizzles some lube into the flexible silicone. “It’s a cock sleeve, Rhys.”

He grins and pats Rhys stomach before sliding the sleeve onto his cock. He slides it off just as fast, and the tight squeeze along with the ribbed edge inside makes Rhys moan and squeeze his legs closed.

Jack moves his legs back open and sits between them to keep them that way, then works the sleeve onto Rhys again. His other hand moves further down, and his fingers start to massage at Rhys’ rim.

At first, it’s just his knuckles pressing against his perineum, massaging his prostate from the outside. Then, as Rhys is distracted by the sleeve being jerked around his cock, Jack pushes in one finger. He leaves the sleeve around the base of his cock and rubs his palm against the head peeking through, then slips in a second digit.

Rhys has been moaning non-stop, and Jack takes his fingers out to find his tie from before. He stuffs it into Rhys’ mouth, and says, “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll be able to tell.”

As promised, when Rhys’ eyes go wide at the orgasm begging to be released, Jack pulls the sleeve off and sits back while Rhys breathes in heavily through his nose.

After another few times of Jack working him up until Rhys is jittering and strung up, cock straining and weeping precome, Jack takes his hands off him completely. Rhys looks up and they stare at each other for a few seconds, with Rhys breathing heavily while trying to stop his orgasm when Jack says, “Come.” And Rhys does. 

He screams through the tie in his mouth, releasing muffled expletives and his eyes roll to the back of his skull. He drops down in exhaustion and is trying to catch his breath when he feels Jack taking the cock sleeve and cock ring off. He blinks the tears out of his eyes and just looks at Jack. He’s so tired and sated, when suddenly Jack takes him into his mouth.

Rhys screams again as Jack slides his lips down and swallows around him. Rhys starts shaking his head on the pillow, it’s  _ too soon _ , it’s  _ too much _ . Jack seems to understand him, and he moves off his cock to tell him, “One more time, baby. You can do one more, can’t you?”

Rhys is steadily crying as he nods, watching as Jack licks around him, and feels fingers sinking back into his hole. They push and prod at his prostate relentlessly, and it’s good, and it hurts, but he’s close to coming again.

It only takes a few more licks and the sight of Jack’s hollow cheeks as he sucks before Rhys groans and comes in his mouth. 

He closes his eyes and turns his head into the pillow, but then Jack’s fingers wrap around his throat and shift his head to face upwards. Jack moves closer and Rhys opens his mouth wide so Jack can take the tie out. When he licks inside, Rhys notices just how bitter Jack tastes, how wet his mouth is, and realizes he is being fed his own come. It isn’t much, since there’s two other loads of Rhys’ come drying on his stomach, but he still moans and lifts his head to give better access.

Jack gives his throat one last squeeze and sits back.

“Did you swallow?” he asks.

Rhys opens his mouth for inspection and preens when Jack says, “Good boy.”

Jack rolls to the side and finally takes his own boxers off, maneuvering Rhys’ legs so he can fit in between them and guides his cock into Rhys’ loose hole. He sinks right in, and Rhys watches as Jack closes his eyes. The strange sense of pride overtakes him again, and he just lays back as Jack fucks him, searching his own release.

After he does, and Jack has untied Rhys, they lay on the bed and just look at each other for a while. Rhys gives Jack a soft smile, and doesn’t let himself think about it for too long. 

“That was quite the reward.” His voice is a little hoarse, and Rhys enjoys the tickle in his throat.

“Well,” Jack turns his head to look at the ceiling, “You deserved it. You didn’t need to do that, on Wednesday, but you did.”

“Well yeah, you needed…”  _ ‘Me’ _ , Rhys wants to say. He settles for “Something to take your mind off things.”

He’s not sure if Jack noticed the slip-up, but he doesn’t comment on it.

“Do you...wanna talk about what happened?” Rhys hesitates, hoping he isn’t crossing some invisible line.

Jack shrugs. “It’s just business, Rhys. There’s a million things I need to think about, need to take into consideration on every single business deal I do, and when some people fuck up and ruin it for me, I shouldn’t feel like punching a fucking wall in anymore. But hey, contrary to popular belief, I’m actually human and sometimes that wall is looking pretty damn punch-worthy.” Jack sighs. “It’s just, this week, I figured, maybe there was an alternative to fucking my hand up. Or I hoped so anyways. So, when you said yes, you really helped me out. Thanks.”

Rhys bites his own lip before saying, “You’re welcome, Jack.” 

Jack raises an eyebrow and lightly shoves his shoulder. “Alright, don’t go soft on me.” He chuckles before his eyes move down to Rhys’ neck. “How about you, you wanna talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” Rhys sits up and contemplates whether he could walk to the bathroom without falling flat on his face. “We should get cleaned up.”

“Rhys.”

He falls back down with a heavy sigh. “Not really. Or… I don’t know. Maybe? Yeah.”

“If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine, you don’t  _ owe  _ me anything. But... you didn’t see your face when I asked you about the collar, Rhys. You looked scared out of your goddamn mind. If anything we do in here is gonna have that kind of effect on you, I think I should know about it.”

“That’s fair.” Rhys turns over to look at the ceiling. “It’s stupid. Actually, no, my therapist would kill me for saying that. It’s not stupid. It just…” He sighs, rubs the palms of his hands over his face and takes a deep breath.

“About two years ago, I was seeing this guy. We went out for a few weeks, fucked a couple times, and then one day he suggested to spice things up a bit. Obviously, I was up for it. We went to his place and he tied me to the bed. My arms, with rope, and my neck,” Rhys swallows, “with a belt.

“It didn’t occur to me that he didn’t know what he was doing, at the time I was just horny and ready, you know. And so...he ties me up, and the belt is pretty tight around my neck, but I’m fine, and then he says he’s gonna go to the store. And, he leaves me there, I’ve got no idea how long he’s gonna be gone, but the belt is really cutting into my skin. And so I wiggle around to try and get it to not cut so hard, and then I start getting light-headed. And then I pass out. Next thing I know, I wake up in the hospital.

“Nurses told me I came in via ambulance, but they didn’t know anything else. He wasn’t there when I woke up, and I haven’t heard from him since. I stayed in hospital for a week, got assigned a therapist. I still go see her every month.” Rhys clears his throat, blinking rapidly as his eyes well up. “At first she helped me see it wasn’t my fault, you know, I wasn’t responsible for the belt cutting off my air supply. I felt guilty, that I didn’t just stay put and wait, that I moved. I thought I could have prevented it. And then after that, she helped me come to terms with...how I kind of liked it. Not passing out and almost dying, obviously, but that feeling of euphoria, that high. That I wasn’t sick for liking it. So now, you know, I trust hands much more than I do an inanimate object.”

Rhys tries to casually wipe away some of the stray tears, then turns to finally look Jack in the eyes. He can’t quite decipher the look he’s being given. It makes him feel warm inside.

Jack reaches his hand out and strokes some hair back behind Rhys’ ear. Then he flicks his nose.

“Don’t ever call that stupid, you idiot. You went through a fucking traumatic experience, because some asshole didn’t read up on  _ ‘how not to kill people’ _ .” Jack breathes hard through his nose. “What’s his name?”

Rhys squints his eyes. “I’m not telling you that.”

“Why not?”

“You’ll have him killed.” Rhys is only half-joking. Jack looks scary and perfectly capable of having someone murdered without leaving any evidence behind.

“So what?” Rhys hopes Jack is joking too.

He rests his hand on Jack’s chest. “It’s done now. I’m done with it.”

“Fine. I’ll drop it.” He doesn’t look like it’s been dropped. “I still think you should have told me sooner, though. If not for my sanity, for your own safety. Actually,  _ first and foremost _ for your own safety.”

“I know,” Rhys accedes. 

“Come here,” Jack says, before pulling Rhys’ face closer. They make out lazily for a little while, and with a final soft press of lips, Jack pulls away. “Go start the shower.”

Rhys walks over to the bathroom and turns around at the door. Jack is lying on the bed, head rested on one arm, the other resting on his stomach. 

Rhys hopes they’re okay after this. Even though they’ve been...seeing each other for several weeks now, they’ve never really had this serious of a conversation. Tonight feels like something profound has changed, and even though Rhys is on board for more serious stuff, he doesn’t know if Jack is too.

Jack notices him staring, and pauses for a second before smiling at him.

Rhys’ heart drops to his stomach, and with sudden clarity, he knows he’s in love with Jack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not gonna promise it won't take me another 2,5 months for the next one but god i hope not


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unbeta'd but uhhh its here  
> nobody judge me on how long it took okay

It’s nine o’clock on a Sunday night and Rhys is having a nervous breakdown. If it was just in his home, that’d be fine, but instead, he’s doing it in a bar. With lots of people around. One of whom is Vaughn.

Granted, Rhys came to the bar _with_ Vaughn. It just makes it a touch more embarrassing to be breaking down in front of a work friend.

Rhys had tried to keep his discovery at the back of his mind so he could enjoy the rest of his weekend with Jack without freaking out. When he left Jack’s place on Saturday evening, and Jack kissed him at the elevator again, he knew he was in deep shit. He was exhausted after the multitude of orgasms Jack had given him over the course of the two days, and he fell asleep instantly, but Sunday morning came with a realization that he needed to talk about this. His own mind had a reputation of betraying him, of making him think self-destructive thoughts, and twisting things around until he’d deceived himself. Another person would give a different perspective, and hopefully give him some peace of mind. Talking to Jack was absolutely out of the question, so he thought long and hard before deciding to give Vaughn a call. He could have called his therapist, of course, but she didn’t know Jack outside of the brief comments Rhys has given her. Vaughn had been working at Hyperion for years before Rhys came in, and Rhys figured he might be able to help him out.

Flash forward to six hours later, and Vaughn has met up with Rhys in a bar downtown.

“What’s up, bro?” Vaughn asks, and promptly Rhys groans and plants his forehead on the slightly sticky table.

“I know we usually stick to watercooler banter, but I’m gonna drop a bomb on you, and I apologize in advance, but I just need to vent and say all my thoughts out loud, and you seem like a super trustworthy guy, so I picked you. Sorry in advance,” Rhys tells the table.

“Uh… Okay,” Vaughn says. “How big of a bomb are we talking here, like, you killed a guy? Stole a car? Robbed the company?”

Rhys lifts his head off the table to stare incredulously at him. “Jesus Christ, Vaughn. No, nothing like that.”

“Okay, good. Just trying to mentally prepare myself. Tell me about your bomb.”

“I have a feeling we shouldn’t say it like that, people are starting to look worried.”

Vaughn looks around and laughs uncomfortably.

“Okay, so…” Rhys starts scraping his nail on the table to keep his hands busy. “For the last couple of months, I’ve been seeing someone… Like, uh… Like friends with benefits, except I’m not sure if we’re friends. So just...benefits.”

Vaughn nods and encourages him to continue.

“It was very much a no-feelings-attached kind of deal.”

“And now you have feelings attached,” Vaughn guesses.

“Yes. Unfortunately.” Rhys grimaces both at his feelings and the dirt that’s collected under his fingernail now.

“I still don’t see how that’s a bomb being dropped, though. Not to minimize your problem, but I have a feeling there’s more to this story.”

Rhys pauses to order two more beers and brings them back to the table. He takes a big gulp and decided to take the plunge. “It’s Jack.”

Vaughn blinks and looks confused. “Jack, who?”

“Jack, from...work.”

Vaughn blinks again.

“Like our boss. Handsome Jack.”

“You’re…fucking Handsome Jack?” Vaughn whisper-asks.

Rhys can’t help the chuckle coming out before he says, “Well, he’s doing most of the fucking, if I’m honest.”

“Okay,” Vaughn frowns. “Do I wanna know how that happened, or is it better if I’m left in denial.”

“Uh…,” Rhys thinks back to his first meeting with Jack, and how he left Vaughn and Yvonne behind to suck Jack off in his office. “Let’s just stick to ‘it happened’.”

“Sure.”

Rhys takes another sip, and feels himself get sappy. He’s a terrible lightweight when it comes to alcohol, and it always makes him so much more emotional. On second thought, meeting Vaughn in a bar was a _terrible_ idea.

“Okay, so… Remind me what the problem is?” Vaughn is apparently also a lightweight. He giggles as someone accidentally bumps into him and apologizes to them.

“The problem is I _love him_ ,” Rhys shouts into the crowded bar. There is a reason Rhys doesn’t drink often.

A muted cheer goes through the bar and Rhys raises his glass.

Vaughn stares at him wide-eyed. “Shit.”

“Shit is right, Vaughn. Shit is right.”

“Are you...sure? Wait, no, that’s a stupid question. I’m sure you’re sure, it’s just… Hard for me to wrap my mind around this revelation.”

“Trust me, I was equally shocked,” Rhys mutters.

Vaughn sips his beer and hums thoughtfully before grabbing his phone. “You know what? I’m shit at feelings, I’m gonna ask my girlfriend to meet us here. She’ll talk some sense into you.”

As it turns out, Fiona is a terrifying woman, if only for the fact that she smacks Rhys on the head as soon as she meets him. “That’s for sleeping with your boss, you idiot.”

“I deserve that.”

“Now what do you want to do about it.”

“Huh?” Rhys replies eloquently.

Fiona sighs and takes a sip of her own beer. “Well, so you love your boss. What do you want to happen?”

“I don’t know!” Rhys is apparently shouting again. “I want him to love me back.”

Well, shit, now he made himself sad. He pouts his lip and tries to drink, then spills beer all over his shirt. Cool beans. When he gets home he can change into one of Jack’s shirts. Oh no, now he’s sad again.

Fiona is glaring at him when he finally looks up again. “You still with us, champ?”

Rhys nods.

“I’m gonna go ahead and assume that that’s not an option, otherwise you guys wouldn’t be crying about it on a sunday evening.”

“I’m not crying,” Vaughn says, while wiping his cheeks. “This is just a very emotional situation for my best friend, okay?! He’s in pain, babe!”

Fiona’s eye-roll looks painful. “Alright, enough beating around the bush. No more sugarcoating things, I think you should quit.”

“What?!” Rhys and Vaughn both shout.

“Listen up, dipshits, and yes, that includes you-” She glares at Vaughn before sighing. “Rhys, he’s your boss and you’re truly, madly, deeply in love with him. Staying around him is only gonna hurt you more, and he clearly isn’t going anywhere. It’s _his_ company. So…you should quit. For your own benefit.”

“I tell you I love Jack, and your idea is for me to stop seeing him and quit my job?”

“Look, I think you need a break. And, distance makes the heart grow fonder, according to the internet.”

“Your magical advice is to listen to the internet?”

“Ignore the internet part, oh my god.” Fiona rolls her eyes before resting them on Rhys. “He doesn’t love you?” she asks, gentler than Rhys has heard her so far.

Rhys shakes his head dejectedly as Vaughn says,”It’s Handsome Jack, duh.”

“And you want him to?” When Rhys nods, she continues, “Then I suggest you show him what he’s missing when you’re not there.”

“But where would I even go? I need money, Fiona, I can’t just quit and expect things to be alright.”

“Come work at Atlas.” Fiona shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “I know a couple people, I could get you an interview next Monday, if you want.”

Rhys leans his head on Vaughn’s comfy shoulder. How are his shoulders so comfy? “How do you know they even need someone like me?”

“What’s your department?”

“Data mining.”

“We’re gonna need someone like you, there, I’ve decided. I’ll schedule your interview once I get home.”

“You can just do that?” Rhys squints in Fiona’s general direction.

“I’m head of HR, so I should hope so.”

Rhys turns his head to shoot Vaughn a thumbs up, but he’s fast asleep next to-, well, under him.

“That’s really nice of you, Fiona. Especially since I never met you before today.”

“Yeah well… This one,” she nods at Vaughn, “has been mentioning you pretty much every day since you started working at that hellish company, so I figured I’d help out.”

Rhys feels a little bad now, considering he hasn’t been paying that much attention to Vaughn at all, outside of their watercooler talks. He vows to make a greater effort from now on.

He looks up to see Fiona watching Vaughn lovingly as he snores the night away.

“Is he wearing shoulder pads?” Rhys asks.

“Oh, absolutely.”

\---

Rhys is taking his keys to his place out of his pocket when he stops and sees the giant box in front of his door. There’s an envelope attached, and inside he finds the message ‘Call me. J.’

The box comes up to Rhys’ waist, and is heavy as shit, but he manages to push it inside before grabbing his phone and dialing the all-familiar number.

“I got you a present,” Jack says, immediately after picking up. “Well, I got _us_ a present, but It’s more for you than for me.”

Rhys knows it’s gonna be sexual, because Jack’s gifts are always sexual, but this seems...really big.

“What is it?”

“Aren’t you gonna say thank you?”

Rhys blushes. “Thank you, daddy. Can I open it?”

“Yes, baby, you can.”

He pulls open the box, ripping cardboard in his excitement, and freezes when he finally uncovers what’s inside.

“I had someone I know and trust in our Robotics Department think of something special for me. We may not be able to construct fully complete robots yet, but certain parts have already been...perfected.”

It’s...a machine. A fucking machine. A literal fucking machine. It’s a large black, steel frame, with a powerful motor inside, connected to a robotic arm. There’s a thick, black dildo attached to the end of the arm, and Rhys can already imagine the force and vibrations it can carry. The box holds a few different dildos in several shapes and sizes, all able to attach to the pistoning arm.

His breath catches in his throat when Jack’s voice comes through again. “Rhys, baby, are you alright?”

“I- Yes,” Rhys stutters, and is painfully aware of how hard he is in his tight pants. “Thank you, daddy.”

“You’re welcome. Do you wanna try it out?”

“But- But you’re not here. I shouldn’t use it without you, daddy.”

“That’s right, cupcake, it’s nice of you to think of me, but I’ve got a solution for that too. There should be a camera in the box, can you see it?”

Rhys quickly locates and unwraps it.

“I want you to find a place in your apartment where you can put the machine. I want you to install the camera and make sure it’s pointed to where I can see the robotic arm move, where I can see the toys thrusting deep inside of your hole, you understand me? I want you to finger yourself ready, wear a plug and have your dinner. And in two hours time, I’m going to video call you, and I want to see you get fucked. Do you understand, pumpkin?”

Rhys clears his throat and squeaks, “Yes, daddy.”

“You are not allowed to come until I tell you to, so don’t even think about jerking off.”

“I know, daddy. I wouldn’t.”

“I trust you, baby. Now, go and set everything up, and I’ll call you in a few hours.”

\---

When Jack’s face pops into view on Rhys’ laptop, Rhys is already settled in, leaning on hands and knees in front of the machine, cockring in place. Prepping himself without getting off was a struggle, but it certainly wasn’t the first time Jack had requested it of him. The prospect of being fucked by a machine - getting taken apart by a robotic arm - was so amazing, he had to squeeze himself a few times to stave off the impending orgasm, so now that Jack is finally there, Rhys is pumped to get started.

“Hey baby,” Jack’s voice rings through clear, and Rhys shivers.

“Hey daddy,” Rhys starts. “I think I installed everything right, but I couldn’t work out how the camera started.”

“That’s okay, I can control it from here, I’ve got it on my screen right now. You ready to get started?”

Rhys nods wildly and blushes. He takes out the plug he’s been wearing for the last two hours and shuffles back, positioning the dildo connected to the arm into his hole. He only takes in the head, not knowing how deep the arm will thrust, and that’s when he realizes he’s missing one key element.

“Wait, daddy, I don’t have the remote. How do I start it?” He panics and looks up at the screen just in time to see the dirty smirk form across Jack’s face. He takes his phone out and shows Rhys through the camera.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ve got the remote right here.”

“What?”

“It’s controlled by an app, Rhysie. The app that I’ve got right here, on my phone. So, when you think about it, your pleasure...is in my hands.”

Rhys chokes on his own spit. “But- Then, how-”

“Oh baby, you’re making an awful lot of noise. Let’s try and shut you up, shall we?”

Jack takes his phone out of frame again, so Rhys doesn’t expect it when the machine comes to life behind him and starts thrusting the arm lazily.

“Oh, sweet jesus,” Rhys mutters as he drops his head between his shoulders. Even though the arm is moving slowly, the machine was positioned perfectly, and the gentle slide of the dildo nudging at his prostate but not hitting it dead-on was already making Rhys see stars.

Jack changes something on the remote and the arm starts thrusting at a faster speed, and Rhys falls onto his elbows. His arched back ensures the dildo is pushing against his prostate and he swears loudly.

“Now, now, baby,” Jack comments. “Be quiet for daddy.”

Rhys bites his lip as the arm pounds away behind him. He tries to stick to moaning and heavy breathing, but Jack is having fun with the settings it seems. The machine will make short, fast thrusts for a minute before slowing down and lazily sliding in and out for several minutes. When Rhys looks up, and shakes his head to move the sweaty hair out of his eyes, he sees Jack’s pleased expression on his face. And he gets this sensation, this urge to _misbehave_.

He starts with a moan so loud, his non-existent neighbours would move out instantly. He pants and licks his lips, putting on a show for the camera. He widens his stance and let’s his hand come down on his asscheek, hard, knowing the other camera will pick on it, nice and clear.

“Oh yeah,” Rhys moans. “Fuck me.”

He grins when he sees Jack raise his eyebrow, and whines as the dildo nudges his prostate head on.

“Rhys, what exactly do you think you’re doing?”

Rhys smirks and stares straight at the camera as he groans. The machine slows down again, but Rhys doesn’t, and when Jack changes tactics and speeds it up, Rhys loses control.

“Fuck yes, right there. God, that’s the spot. Hmm, fuck me, daddy.”

“Rhys, shut up, baby. You don’t want the punishment I’ve got prepared for you,” Jack threatens. “So, be a good boy and _keep quiet_.”

He shuts down the machine to add to his threat, and Rhys moves off of the dildo. Then he crawls forward and presses the mute button on his laptop.

He can see Jack’s lips moving, and exactly how long it takes before Jack realizes what he’s done, but he’s already crawled backwards and slips the dildo back inside. He moves his own hips and fucks himself on it, showing Jack he can have fun without him too. He adds extra moans for good measure.

Jack’s raised eyebrow spurs him on, and Rhys grins at him when suddenly Jack’s face disappears from screen. He quickly checks if he’s still connected, and he sees they’re still calling, but Jack has shut his camera off. Rhys is careful not to show him pushing his volume button again, and releases a breath when he hears Jack’s heavy breathing.

Rhys jumps when the machine jolts back into action, and the dildo that was halfway lodged inside starts pushing in again, at an uncomfortably fast speed, making Rhys wail and land on his elbows again, trying to crawl forward for a reprieve from the hard thrusts. His breath hitches and he’s releasing screams when suddenly the machine shuts off completely again.

Rhys tries to catch his breath as he looks at the camera. “Fuck. You.”

He hears a low moan come from his computer, followed by slick skin on skin.

“Put it back on.” He looks down at his violently red dick, dripping precome on the floor, and sighs. “Please. Daddy, please put it back on.”

There’s no response from Jack’s side, so Rhys tries a different tactic. He looks straight at his webcam and bites his lip shyly. “Please, fuck me, daddy? I want you to make me come.”

The quick, slick sounds come back, and the arm starts pistoning again, at a more agreeable pace. He takes off the cockring and goes back to pleading. “Please, daddy? Tell me I can?”

The pace increases, and this time, it seems like it’ll stay that way. Rhys is so close to coming, has been close for minutes, hours, but he wants Jack to tell him it’s okay. He hears Jack’s heavy breathing, followed by a groan, and a significant silence.

Jack’s camera turns back on, and he doesn’t have to say anything to bring Rhys off. The sight of him licking his own finger, which Rhys is certain Jack just came on, is enough for him to come all over the floor.

\---

Rhys is sure Jack enjoyed his disobliging attitude -the look on his face and the come on his fingers serve as evidence - but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t expect to be punished for it. That was Rhys’ goal all along; get Jack pissed off enough for him to discipline Rhys for being a bad boy.

So when he walks in on Friday, he knows he’s in for a rough night. Jack is lounging on the couch, still wearing his suit for work, and Rhys gulps. He always likes seeing Jack in suits, looking powerful and not to be messed with. Which of course makes Rhys want to mess with him.

He walks over to the kitchen to grab a glass of water when suddenly Jack’s arms reach around and pull his shirt off, pushing him against the counter so he can’t escape. Jack nuzzles his neck before biting him, then kissing the bite gently. It’s enough to momentarily distract him from the fact that Jack’s tying his arms together behind his back, from elbows to wrists.

“Not a word, baby,” Jack says before leading him into the bedroom. Jack pushes him to his knees and attaches the rest of the rope to a hook in the ceiling, making sure Rhys can’t sit on his legs and has to rest all of his weight on his knees.

Rhys chokes on his own spit when he sees what Jack brings over.

“It’s called a mouth spreader, baby, and I’m sure you can work out the meaning of that.”

Jack inserts the metal parts into Rhys’ mouth, and spreads them open between his teeth so Rhys can’t close his mouth anymore. Saliva quickly gathers under his tongue, and he has no choice but to let it dribble out.

“That’s a good boy,” Jack praises him and opens the zipper on his suit pants. He pulls his cock through the fly and rests the head on Rhys’ lip. “Let’s see if it works, huh, pet?”

Swiftly, Jack thrusts his cock into Rhys’ open mouth and slides in to nudge at the back of his throat. Rhys is drooling around him, but he knows this is only the start. There’s still several inches of Jack to go, and he has a feeling Jack is going to make this punishment last all night.

The head of his cock is pushing at his throat, tickling and Rhys suppresses the urge to cough. He’s already tearing up while Jack pushes inside easily. When Rhys’ head gets tired and starts to droop, Jack clenches his hands in his hair and pulls him up, then starts moving Rhys’ head over his dick. Rhys closes his eyes as tears fall down and his face gets fucked.

When Jack pulls out, Rhys’ head follows and he whimpers, but Jack pulls his face up so he can look into his eyes.

“This is what happens when you don’t listen to my directions, baby. Only good boys get treats.”

Rhys whines as tears and drool drip off his face.

“You wanna be a good boy for me, right?”

Rhys nods quickly.

“Let’s get you off this hook,” Jack says, releasing Rhys from the wall, but leaving his arms tied up behind him and then leading him to the bed. When Rhys moves to lay down, Jack stops him. ‘Other way around, cupcake. Head on this side.”

When Rhys complies, Jack pulls him down by his armpits until Rhys head is hanging off the ledge, throat stretched out. Before Rhys knows it, the back of his throat is being tickled by Jack’s cockhead, and pretty soon it’s pushing deeper inside. Jack’s hand moves to fit over his throat and Rhys can tell Jack’s feeling his own cock thrusting. He can probably see it, too. His breathing is being cut off, his vision is going dark and his dick is so hard in his pants, Rhys worries he might come untouched.

When Jack slips out and gives Rhys a second to breathe, Rhys closes his eyes and shivers. A few more deep thrusts inside his throat and Rhys can feel himself slipping away, can feel himself losing his grip on the situation and he’s eager to just take whatever Jack will do to him, no questions asked. A quick slap to the face brings him back.

“I don’t think so, cupcake, we’re not done yet.”

Rhys has to shake his head to clear his mind, and Jack pulls him back up to remove the mouth spreader. Rhys blinks some of the tears out of his eyes. It hurts to swallow, but he likes it at the same time, so he does it again, and again, until Jack smirks at him. He kisses him on his spit-slick, swollen lips, dragging his fingers through Rhys’ hair, pulling at it just a touch too hard so Rhys can’t hold in his moans.

“Did you know you left one of your plugs here last week?”

Rhys is confused by the question, and honestly how does Jack expect him to pay attention when he’s in this state?

Jack continues, “Normally, you clean your toys and take them home so you can use them whenever daddy tells you to, right?”

Rhys nods, still confused.

“But I found one, in my shower. You know, the titanium one with the purple crystal at the base?”

Rhys so badly wants to shrug, but he’s being _good_ , so even though he doesn’t know what the fuck Jack’s talking about, he keeps nodding. Is he in trouble?

“So I thought I’d have some fun too.”

What?

“You didn’t tell me how good it felt, Rhys.”

 _What_.

“How it stretches you open and nudges you at just the right spot. How you can’t sit down right without it stimulating your prostate and reminding you that something’s inside of you. Pleasuring you. Keeping you loose and ready.”

Rhys’ mouth has dropped open and Jack grins as he pushes Rhys’ chin up.

“Oh no, baby. You got filled up already. I think it’s my turn, don’t you?”

Without warning, Jack makes quick work of Rhys’ belt, pants and underwear. He undoes some of his ropework so he can pull Rhys’ arms up and attach them to the headboard of the bed. Rhys has been in this situation plenty of times before, tied up and naked on the bed, hard cock standing at attention. Even the part where Jack puts a cockring on him is familiar, but Jack straddling him, equally naked, is new.

Jack doesn’t even need to remind Rhys to keep quiet, Rhys wouldn’t know what to say anyway. He can only stare in awe as Jack reaches behind him and shows him the glistening plug. Jack has the prettiest moans. Rhys will never tell him that of course, but this is the first time he’s heard them this soft. Rhys feels like he just witnessed something he wasn’t allowed to see, but he knows Jack did this on purpose, so it feels extra special.

Jack grabs the lube and puts a fresh coat on the plug, and Rhys gasps as he realizes what he’s about to do. Jack pushes the warm plug inside Rhys’ hole -which he prepared earlier during his weekly ritual- and without pause straddles Rhys to position himself above Rhys’ cock. He sinks down on it slowly, eyes firmly locked on Rhys who is keeping himself from crying out.

Rhys is biting his lip and holding on tight to the bars on the headboard when Jack smooths his hands over his torso, thumbing at his nipples and tweaking them.

“Such a good boy,” Jack murmurs, and starts moving his hips. “Lie still for me, okay?”

Rhys nods and Jack starts riding him in earnest, their skin slapping together, the sound reverberating through the room.

After a while, Jack pushes the sweaty hair off of his forehead and sighs. “You know, I’ve been doing a lot of work here. I think it’s time you put some effort in, right baby?”

“Yes, daddy.” His voice doesn’t sound like his own.

Jack sits up a little and slaps Rhys’ thigh. “Go on then.”

Rhys holds onto the headboard tightly as he raises his hips and thrusts up inside of Jack. It feels good, and warm, and tight, but he can’t focus on that for too long because he also clenches his ass around the plug and almost screams from the double stimulation.

He drops his ass to the mattress again and huffs until there are no more stars in his eyes. Then he sees Jack’s disappointed look.

“Is that all you can do?” Jack pinches his nipple. “Are you tired, pet?”

Rhys shakes his head. “No, daddy.”

“Prove it.”

Rhys clenches around the plug to get used to the feeling, and bites his lip. He’s seriously fucked.

It takes a few thrusts before Jack stops giving him a mocking look and starts looking like he’s enjoying himself. And Rhys wants to see him crack. He wants to see him scream, he wants to see him come. He wants to see it and know _he did that_.

It’s enough motivation for him to start thrusting harder, faster, until Jack sinks down lower and throws his head back and Rhys knows he’s hitting his prostate dead-on.

The sounds coming from Jack’s mouth are music to his ears and Rhys can’t stop grinning even as Jack comes all over his chest, some of it reaching his chin. Feeling playful, he keeps thrusting until Jack gets too sensitive and pushes Rhys’ chest down into the mattress.

“That’s enough.”

Rhys bites his lip and blinks a few times, acting cute, or attempting to anyway.

“Do you think you deserve to come?” Jack asks.

“I don’t know, daddy.”

“Who decides when you come?”

“You do, daddy.”

“That’s right,” Jack settles his whole body over Rhys’ own, and whispers in his ear. “Only I do.”

Jack undoes the cockring and wraps a warm hand around Rhys’ cock. Rhys whimpers.

The hand moves from his cock to his throat, and Jack squeezes while kissing Rhys’ jaw.

“Don’t come.” Rhys nods.

Jack bites his earlobe. “Don’t come.”

Jack moves so their lips are almost touching. He lets go of Rhys’ throat, whispers ‘Come’ and works his tongue into Rhys’ mouth as Rhys comes untouched over his stomach, adding to Jack’s mess.

His legs shake, his stomach’s trembling and he’s probably not even participating in the kiss but he’s enjoying it nonetheless. It’s the last he remembers before he falls asleep.

\---

For the first time since he started staying over, Rhys wakes up before Jack. It’s the first time Rhys has actually seen Jack asleep, and the image is too beautiful to look away from. His face looks soft and relaxed, his hair tousled, his fingers curling around the pillow. He doesn’t look like a fuckbuddy, or his boss, or _in charge_. He looks like a boyfriend. And that’s the dream for Rhys, isn’t it?

“Can I help you with something?” Jack mumbles into the pillow, eyes still closed.

“Just looking.” Rhys traces Jack’s lips with the pad of his thumb and can feel Jack breathing out of his nose. It takes him a second to realize what he’s doing, and he quickly takes his finger back. He forgot that Jack didn’t like his face being touched, he just saw his lips right there and moved his hand, without thinking.

“Sorry,” he whispers.

Jack opens his eyes and just looks at him. The silence lasts long enough for Rhys to panic slightly. Then Jack shrugs and turns around to step out of bed.

“I need to leave early today, and I probably won’t be around tomorrow either. You can just let yourself out later.”

It’s a clear instruction not to follow him out of the bedroom, and probably to leave him alone during breakfast too. Rhys twists and tries to get some more rest but he has trouble falling asleep, replaying when his fingers touched the soft skin of Jack’s lips, and that brief moment of shock that had crossed Jack’s face.

He doesn’t think he stepped out of line too bad, but then again, he also doesn’t know why Jack doesn’t like being touched. Maybe he went too far. But he apologized for it, it was a simple mistake, right?

An hour later, when he hears the front door shut, Rhys has worked himself into enough of a frenzy to think it’s as good a time as any to pack all his shit up and go. He cleans the bathroom and the bedroom, makes the bed and cleans up after himself in the kitchen and inspects the apartment one last time before he leaves.

It’s like he was never even there.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr!](http://nbstilinski.tumblr.com/)


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